Too Sexy For this Shirt
by bardvahalla
Summary: House is forced to participate in a Bachelor Auction Fundraiser


**Too Sexy for This Shirt.**

_By Bardvahalla (2006)_

_**House is forced to participate in a Charity Bachelor Auction.**_

TUESDAY MORNING

House leaned on his cane heavily, feinting more discomfort than he actually felt, but Cuddy wasn't buying it. Her voice had that slightly tired tone.

"You've got two choices."

This voice wasn't as jovial as the one she used when she outright told him what to do.

"Which is it gonna be?"

"I'd rather do clinic duty that night." House stared past her at the sly movement in the reflection of the window. Her poofy male secretary peered at them from his office. House's free hand slipped behind his back and made a very rude gesture. The reflection darted out of sight.

"The clinic will be closed. Nice try." Cuddy raised an amused eyebrow and her tone became deceptively light. "The auction is Saturday night, so get your tuxedo dry cleaned." She scooped up a handful of files, whisked past him and headed for the door.

"This is harassment!" House raised his voice so the assistant could hear. "I didn't work three jobs through med school so you could put me on display like a sexy piece of genius doctor meat!"

"Arranging poker games and betting pools don't qualify as jobs, House."

"Potato and poker chips don't buy themselves, missy."

Cuddy turned, a grimace on her face. "Fine. You can MC."

House limped to the door. "I thought Cameron was going to MC."

"She's written up the cards for the bachelors. All you'll have to do is read them."

House bristled. "Nuh-un! It'll be all mushy and girly. People might question my sexuality."

"Just read them - _Verbatim_." Cuddy turned and strode away. "Besides, no one in his or her right mind would bid on a date with you."

A laugh from the assistant turned into an embarrassed cough when House turned and stared hard at him. Poofy male secretary wouldn't read that crap Cameron scribbled down, so how could he? Unless … Cuddy had a bet that he _wouldn'_t read it. But if he didn't, she'd no doubt saddle him with more clinic duty. House limped off, annoyed.

Could it be Cuddy was getting better at anticipating him?

Oh no.

Oh no- no-no!

This would never, never do.

He passed the door to the psych ward and paused. A smile spread over his lips. No one in his or her right mind, huh?

FRIDAY NIGHT

As House flipped through the numbered cards, Cameron slipped backstage, edged up to him and held out her hand. "Let me see them."

House handed over the cards, a pained expression on his face. "What? You don't trust me?"

"No." She checked them front and back, looking for alterations. There were none. "Just remember, this is to raise money for the Burn Unit. No funny stuff."

"Me?" House batted his eyes. "Why I'd never do anything to undermine the hospital's financial -"

"You cost this hospital a million bucks just last year." Cameron snorted.

"Vogler was Satan."

"You still undermined -"

"Oh bitch-bitch-bitch!" House broke into a lisp and minced past her. "Go away! You're ruining my concentration." He launched into a loud rendition of operatic scales until Cameron rolled her eyes and stomped away.

Foreman and Chase lined up with the other bachelors back stage. House lurched over and began to switch their numbers with two other bachelors. Foreman stayed his hand.

"I'm saving the best for last." House explained.

Foreman crossed his arms. "If you try anything –"

"Such a thought never even thought of crossing my mind."

Chase's eyes narrowed. "Do you swear?"

House palmed a Vicodin, popped it in his mouth and swallowed it dry. "Scout's honour." He put the cards in his right jacket pocket, clapped his hands and lisped, "Smile for me, girls! Remember, this is for charity!"

"You were never in Scouts!" Foreman observed.

"It's an expression." House lurched away.

Moments later Wilson sought him out. His long-suffering puppy-dog look needed no explanation. He'd known House too long. Wilson whispered, "The entire Board is here. The media's in the audience too. You aren't going to pull anything, are you?"

"Oh relax." House brushed non-existent lint from Wilson's tux. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Don't try to dodge the question- "

The air suddenly filled with the goopy romantic music mix Cameron had burned to CD earlier that day. "Go to go," House lisped. "My Cue!"

Wilson's eyes widened in panic. "House?"

House shuddered in revulsion as Michael Bolton's voice accompanied him on stage. He limped to the podium, hung up his cane then quelled a smirk as he pulled the other set of cards from his left pocket as the lights when down.

THE FINALE

For most of the cards, he'd altered the copy only slightly so he wouldn't sound too girly. Cuddy and Cameron sat in the back, visibly tense even with minor changes. 22 bachelors and no funny stuff later, they finally relaxed. Backstage, Wilson looked calmer, but still not entirely trusting. The Board even appeared triumphant. The auction had already broken last year's threshold by a generous margin despite the appalling sound mix.

The room grew crowded with late arrivals. House assumed they had shown up just to see if he'd pull anything. Gratified he'd drawn such a mob, he smiled openly. No sense disappointing people.

He took a deep breath. "We're at $410. C'mon ladies," he coaxed as the bidding slowed on a handsome GYN-OB intern, "Tony's a true gentleman. He warms up the equipment before administering a pap smear. It's hard to find that kind of courtesy these days."

"Four-thirty!" The final bid came from pudgy woman to his right.

House banged the little gong in the podium. "Sold to Mary from accounting for $430!"

"It's Marny," she hissed at House, "From HR."

"Right." House looked down and summoned up a sneer. "Marny. Rhythms with carny." He flicked Tony's card at her.

"Next up, Dr. James Wilson." House began to purr. "This dashing oncologist is back on the marriage market, girls. Grab him before he gets snapped up again by Miss Wrong."

Cameron bolted up and leaned over to Cuddy. His eyes glinted at them both as he pulled a remote from his breast pocket. The MP3 he wired into the system earlier overrode the main speakers. Strains of Robert Palmer's "_Doctor, Doctor_" overrode a Barry Manilow tune and filled the air.

"Wilson is a ball. Just ask Tom Hanks." House now affected a heavy lisp into the mike. " - and if you're a needy emotional cripple with leech-like tendencies, this is the guy you want to attach yourself to."

Wilson flushed in anger, turned and stomped back down the catwalk, eyes blazing. Cuddy rose out of her seat. House gave a nod to a table of red-hatted ladies in the audience as Cuddy began to stride towards him.

"I'll start the bidding at $600."

Silence settled on the crowd. Cuddy stopped short, confused. Not one bachelor had broken $500 all night. To start the bidding at six hundred dollars was insane. She opened her mouth to protest.

"$600!"

Cuddy's mouth snapped shut and the entire room turned to stare at a mousy, red-hatted woman waving a fistful of bills.

"$650!" cried the heavy-set hated woman next to her.

Within two minutes Wilson sold for $925. He masked his anger good-naturedly and left the stage, obviously pleased with the high bids.

Foreman strode up the catwalk. House pressed the fast forward button on his MP3 remote and Isaac Hayes' sultry voice followed Eric onstage. It was a particularly graphic love song he ripped from a South Park episode. Cameron's head hit the table. Cuddy returned to her seat and took a long swallow of her drink.

"Dr. Eric Foreman is just so super," he lisped, "Once you've had black you'll never go back. He certainly stole my heart… or was it my car?" House gestured flamboyantly, 'Oh, who cares! The bidding starts at $600!"

Once again, the table of red-hated women dominated the bidding and Eric sold for $850. House blew a kiss to the winning bidder, a rather conservative-looking lady in her 70's. "Remember dear - he's emancipated. You have to return him undamaged after your date within 24 hours."

Foreman shot Chase a look of pure sympathy as he left the stage. Once more the song changed and the crowd of women hooted and catcalled.

"I'm too sexy for Milan, too sexy for –" 

"Dr. Robert Chase is anything but chaste, " House lisped heavily. "This Australian dreamboat is an ex-seminary student but he still likes to get on his knees, beg for forgiveness and anything else he can get. We've surgically removed his lips from my butt for this very occasion. Bidding starts at $600, ladies!"

A robust, red-hatted lady won with a bid of $950 dollars. Chase forced a pleased expression to his pale face as he left the stage. House cracked his knuckles. Cuddy nodded reluctantly at an exuberant board member. Cameron alternately rubbed at her eyes and drank wine straight from a bottle. Foreman and Wilson stood behind her, a scowl on their faces.

"Well, thank you so much for your support!" House's voice now resumed its normal cadence. "Just one bachelor to go, so if you haven't got your licks in yet… ladies - this is your _last _chance."

Cuddy stopped nodding. Cameron's wine bottle drooped. Eric blinked, Wilson frowned and Chase whirled. He could hear them wonder aloud, out in the dark. _One more? Who?_

The MP3 began to play ZZ Top's "_Sharp Dressed Man'_. House produced a top hat from under the podium and put it on. He pulled the mike from the stand and walked carefully out onto the catwalk as he twirled his cane.

House breathed heavily into the mike. "Last chance ladies… bidding starts at $1000 - For me…." House paused, then growled lustfully as he pulled a pair of plane tickets from his pocket and raised them high. "…and Hawaiiiiiii."

The song was lost over the catcalls and screams of disbelief.

ONE MONTH LATER.

"So Cuddy thinks we're in Hawaii?"

House puffed on a cigar. His stack of chips had quadrupled since he begun playing roulette. Wilson sat next to him, still trying to work it out.

"No." House pulled three stacks towards him and set them aside. He bet the remaining stack on black. "She thinks you're taking sick leave because of your divorce. She thinks I'm in Hawaii with a 'Mrs. Federline'."

Wilson sucked on piece of ice thoughtfully. "So who were those lady in the red hats?"

"Patients from psych."

"Psych?" Wilson frowned.

"Bellini's sexual addiction therapy group."

Wilson gagged. A bit of ice skittered across the roulette table and landed on Red 34. "You…set… up …Chase and Foreman with … sex addicts?"

"Oh no. That would be evil." A large blue smoke ring appeared and House pulled in a large stack of chips along with Wilson's bit of melting ice. "Technically, _I_ bought Chase and Foreman. The red hats were a front. Paid 'em each a hundred bucks to bid on us."

Wilson became confused again. "You bid on Forman, Chase, me AND yourself? Why?"

"To prove to Cuddy I'm a valuable commodity." House blew another smoke ring. "But mostly to get out of clinic duty.

Wilson mulled that over for a moment. "Why didn't you go to Hawaii?"

"Because _we're_ in Vegas to recoup my loses. You bachelor docter may be easy, but you're definitely not cheap."

Wilson shook the tumbler of ice. Whisky all gone, he thought. Need more. "Do the others know you spent a small fortune to get out of clinic duty?"

"Not yet." House pushed two stacks of chips onto a black square. "It's been so much fun watching them squirm every time a strange woman phones them."

"How much did this whole caper set you back?" Wilson handed his glass to a passing waitress and waited until the tiny white ball rattled, clicked and finally settled.

House stubbed out his cigar and sat back with a satisfied smile. "Less than half of what I just won. C'mon. Let's cash out. Dinner's on me, tonight." He stacked his pile of chips into a holder, thrust it into Wilson's arms and retrieved his cane.

"May I ask what you plan to do with Chase and Foreman?"

"Haven't decided." House led the way across the casino floor, through clanging slot machines, to a cashier. "My idea of a dream date with Chase is watching him refinish my hardwood floor." He handed the chips over a counter to a brightly smiling brunette.

"You wouldn't…"

"Foreman, well - I just love the idea that I still can buy a black guy in this day and age. If I really want to rub it in, I think I'll make him take me out to a movie. Do ya think Disney'll ever get around to re-releasing the 'Song of the South'."

Wilson's eye narrowed. "And me?"

"Hey, that's right! You owe _me_ a date." House pocketed a wad of cash and waggled his brows at Wilson. "You buy dinner and then you can take me out to do something fun."

"House –"

"Oh!" House lisped as he passed a poster. "Circe du Soleil! I love those guys. Limber French Canadians in spandex! It'll be fun."

"No. No, it won't."

"Oh yes, it will. Don't give me that look. You love the circus."

"Fine." Wilson sighed. "I'm up for anything except a Celine Dion show or the Liberace museum."

House grinned. Judging from his expression he figured Wilson's thoughts were dwelling on anything except that fact his divorce became final today.

Honestly, the lengths he went to for his friend.

FIN


End file.
